[BATT] WHAT A FINE DAY FOR SCIENCE (Muerte & Byakko) FIN

[Melancholies]

this is so bad



BLUH BLUH GIMME UR BLOOD

 

[Melancholies]

When you woke up with the inspiration for science, you just—you had to grab it by the horns, knock it down, and reign it in. You couldn't let it get away. These sorts of feelings were boundless, and yet limited; there, and yet out of reach. They were fleeting, like shooting stars, and Muerte could honestly go on and there wasn't time for that.

Point was, he woke with a goal, and he intended to see it through. He'd brought the idea up to Aprife on a number of occasions, though most ended with "Muerte, you can't ask someone for their blood." Well why the ******** couldn't he? ******** off Invasi, this was a pursuit of knowledge.

Honestly, the hardest part would be finding an audience with Byakko. Blessedly, today was not a difficult day, as the trek to her hive from his was amazingly short (thank you "I wanna keep all my officers as close as possible" Mawiya), and the door was ever shut, but inviting. Which was to say he had himself a good knock and then proceeded to let himself in. Surely Aprife had told Akko about his ideas, right? Surely he was expected, right?

Well, hopefully.

melona-pan

forgive me

 

[melona-pan]

Ever since she first woken up, Byakko had an odd feeling about tonight.

Shrugging it off, she continued on with the early evening as routine had set- prepping the other mutantblood's meals, assuring they hadn't died in their sleep, and forcing them to bathe. Lusus things. When all was done and they had scampered off elsewhere, Byakko was left alone in their hive. She had just settled down to her desk in the front block, eager to take advantage of the moment of silence she was so rarely granted, when a sharp knock echoed through the room.

Her door was indeed open to any rebel, but she was mildly surprised to see Muerte come bursting through. Byakko lowered the papers in her hands, closing and smoothing over the file folder they belonged to. Her eyes darted behind the greenblood for the ever looming Aprife who generally accompanied him- he wasn't there. Odd. Akko's eyes focused back on Muerte. He seemed... motivated. And out of breath.

"Can I be of some assistance?"

Melancholies

words

 

[Melancholies]

Sweaty was an understatement. The swamp was humid and the trek was long and arduous—if you asked Muerte, anyway. That alone was a good enough reason to disturb Byakko's otherwise uneventful evening. Of course, he still remembered all his talks with Aprife about manners, and how he shouldn't be disrespectful to the trolls that had rank over him. That was well and good, but—and he studied this, thoroughly—there was a very distinct overlap with "casual" banter and "formal" banter when it came to this bizarre notion of "camaraderie". It was therefore imperative that he remain open and friendly to accomplish his task, and this meant maintaining a certain level of what he dubbed "chumminess".

"Oh absolutely." he was wheezing, still very much out of breath, but nevertheless intent. Motivated was a very good word for it. "You see, there is a very special project I had in mind, and I'm afraid only you could assist me with its fruition."

He let that hang in the air for a moment. Breaking the blissful silence, he went in for the kill.

"I need your blood. It's purely for scientific purposes." because what other reasons would there be?

melona-pan

WHEEZE

 

[melona-pan]

Muerte's request was met by a quirked brow and a long, even stare.

Byakko had expected this sooner or later. Aprife had warned awhile back that collecting her blood was on Muerte's usually questionable to-do list. She was assured it was for nothing sinister, and that it was purely out of scientific curiosity; Akko couldn't imagine what use it could possibly be. Admittedly, she respected how he cut to the chase.

She rose, slowly, then neatly tucked her chair in. Keeping Muerte active and happy(?) was of more value than saving herself the mild discomfort of knowing he was holed up in his hive hovering over beakers of pink blood.

"Well, I don't object." Akko was slinking over to the window now, where her kanabo rested propped up against the wall. She rolled it purposefully in her palms, taking one large stride to hover over Muerte. She stared down. "But you're going to have to take it from me."

Melancholies

come at me skinny man

 

[Melancholies]

Quote:

Muerte dealt 0 damage

Chumminess: 1, Aprife: 0. Once again, Muerte had proved that he could outsmart the yellowblood. Don't do it, he had said, I wouldn't recommend it he'd plead (plead being used very loosely). Sometimes you just had to put your hand into the proverbial fire to learn it was hot. Even if it came away burned, he knew he'd have to throw his hand in there again regardless. This was for science, and data didn't take too kindly to weakness.

Though, Byakko did have a massive unruly looking club... thing. Muerte didn't think to take his bonesaw (why would he) and only had a syringe and a scalpel on his person to deem dangerous. The syringe might get stuck and the needle might break if used like a dagger, and he wasn't out to get their leader dead from sepsis.

Thus begins the story of how one Muerte Perist decided to attack Byakko Mawiya, leader of the rebellion, mutantblooded pink-hued amazon of the swamp, with one of the smallest blades known to man.

But it would be okay. Byakko probably(?) wouldn't kill him, and Muerte had no intentions of killing her, so at worse he might suffer a nasty head contusion or two. This wasn't really bad; the more lucid state of non-awareness might spark new ideas or be a good excuse to garner attention from Aprife (which he didn't need, but it was good to have). Really, it was a win-win situation.

"Well, alright then." he said plainly, brandishing the object from his coat pocket as he dashed in.


Quote:
HP: 20/20
Novice Defense Style A (Robo Eye): 2/2

melona-pan

 

[melona-pan]

Quote:

Akko dealt 3 damage.

Half of Byakko thought Muerte would back off right then and there. The other half thought he would agree and ask something along the lines of "shall we partake in your barbaric proposition in the clearing?", but what she didn't see coming was him, with a small blade.

"Hey-" she sidestepped Muerte's dash with ease, spinning to slap sharply at the back of his head. It met with a satisfying crack. Akko let out a warning hiss. "NOT inside my hive!" And he was always calling the others imbeciles. Grabbing his labcoat by the collar, kanabo in her other fist, she huffed and hauled the tiny greenblood out onto the balcony circling her hive.

Byakko threw Muerte onto the deck, then pointed at his scalpel with her spiked club. "Where's your weapon?" She demanded, nose scrunching. He couldn't possibly(?) be foolish enough, cocky enough, to leave his hive unarmed, even if it was just down a ladder and across a few rope bridges. "That thing isn't going to do you any good."

Quote:

HP: 20/20
Military Weapon +1
Adept Artifact: 2/2
(Defensive Style B: nullify the damage from the last hit)

MMMMMelancholies

holds tete back w/ her kanabo at arms length and yawns

 

[Melancholies]

Quote:

Muerte dealt 0 damage

Muerte honestly expected to miss—and realistically he expected Byakko to retaliate, this was a fight after all—but to be grabbed by the back of his shirt like a kitten by the scruff was, for some reason, probably the most humiliating thing that could have occurred to him in that moment. Could there be worst punishments? Probably, but Muerte tended to be the type to focus on the here-and-now.

Thrown to the floor, he stumbled gracefully down on his a**. He sulked. He looked like the most petulant child that had ever walked the face of Alternia. He got the cake but couldn't eat it—no, he didn't even get the cake in the first place. Byakko had taken candy from the baby, and he was arguably the baby. It made his wounds sting. Y'know, the ones he didn't actually have yet.

"I'll have you know," he twirled the scalpel between his fingers, the movement actually quite smooth and flourished (and useless). "That the scalpel is a very versatile tool. It is, dare I say, the most important part of my arsenal." which was to say, had this been an operating table and Akko had her guts hanging off of the table, it still probably wouldn't be that efficient.

Muerte seemed wholly undeterred.

"Now then," he stood up and primly dusted his coat off. "Since we're in a much more suitable location for your needs, I say we can commence the duel." He waggled the scalpel dangerously(?), face very serious. "As I do have things to do and blood to sample."


Quote:
HP: 17/20
Novice Defense Style A (Robo Eye): 2/2

melona-pan

 

[melona-pan]

Quote:

Akko dealt 7 damage.

Byakko glared down at Muerte while he prattled. She continued to do so once the tiny manbaby stood. His expression vaguely reminded her, ever so briefly, of the one Maneki wore when she denied him more sweets or she demanded he went to sleep. She tilted her head, mostly in curiosity, at his intimidating(?), ornamental display with the scapel. "I don't deny that it has it's uses, but it still has awful range and durability." She looked down at her own weapon (that was likely around Muerte's height) as if to say 'there's no way you can hit me with that stupid little piece of skinny metal'. Birds will preen. "It's foolish for you to ever be unarmed, even within the swamp. Don't do it again."

While she had no room to pass judgment, Byakko was now certain that Aprife's type was 'dumb idiot who runs their mouth far too much'.

Akko pointedly looked from Muerte, down to the swamp stories below them, then back. Suitable location. An irritated pang played at her gut. His attitude far outweighed his skill, at least on this playing field.

She knew she should have suggested they moved the fight elsewhere, perhaps allowed him to scuttle away to get his bonesaw.

She knew she needed more patience with him- he'd since been better with Maneki after her warning, after all.

She knew he wasn't much of a fighter, more of a behind-the-scenes type of troll.

She knew she was being hard on him.

She knew it was wrong.

She did it anyway.

Byakko simply dropped her kanabo, strode over to Muerte, picked him over her head, then tossed him over the railing of the balcony.

Quote:

HP: 20/20
Military Weapon +1
Adept Artifact: 2/2
(Defensive Style B: nullify the damage from the last hit)

Melancholies

fly

 

[Melancholies]

Quote:

Muerte dealt 0 damage

Byakko probably wouldn't kill him.

Byakko probably wouldn't kill him.

At first, he made no sound. He hadn't swung, but evidently his words were far sharper than the blade in his hand. The movement was so swift and effortless that it happened in the span of a blink—one second he was standing there, and the next he was in the air, and the next he was falling.

Instinct told him to reach out—try and grab the railing—but that would have been far too rational, wouldn't it? Instead he felt the wind rushing through his hair and the sight of Byakko growing smaller and smaller above him. He felt like a bird—if birds sunk through the air like rocks. There were times when he slipped and fell out of the gargantuan trees back in the Fronds, but this was different. His lusus wasn't there to catch him. Nor was he a cat capable of always landing on his feet. This was do or die.

Byakko... probably wouldn't kill him.

He repeated this to himself over and over like a mantra. Aprife would get frustrated with him, but would he ever go so far as to throw him off of a balcony? He liked to think not, but he had assumed the same rationality from Akko (being the leader of the rebellion and all). He wasn't so fortunate. Was this payback, he wondered briefly, for the stunt with Maneki back at the old base? He knew Byakko's type. She was prideful, but because she had the strength to back it up. Could there really be anything so poisonous to Muerte's words that would cause her to do this? Why? Why him? Why this? He needed a spin to do simple things, like walk—or sit upright—and you know, do science. To what did he owe for her merciless wrath?

His eyes closed. This was the longest ten second fall of his life. Byakko wouldn't kill him; she had face to save with the rebellion. She would make it look like an accident. Byakko would kill him, he decided. A moment of silence for all the science that would never be completely; for all the blood that would never be tested. He mourned this loss of knowledge. Could life really be so cruel?

He slammed into the shallow muddy water below, his only saving grace being the fact that this particular pool was a little deeper. Thankfully, trolls were a robust species. Unfortunately, Muerte was on the tail end of robust. Lifting his head disorientated, he adjusted his now-broken glasses.

But he still had the goddamn scalpel.


Quote:
HP: 10/20
Novice Defense Style A (Robo Eye): 2/2

melona-pan

 

[melona-pan]

Quote:

Akko dealt 6 damage.

Byakko squinted down at Muerte from her vantage point. When his tiny frame shifted(?) in the mud below, she nodded to herself. He'd be just fine, maybe a few cuts and bruises- swamp mud made for great cushioning. No harm in being tossed around a little; if anything, Muerte could use some exercise. Not that he was getting much of any, (except perhaps an exercise in humility).

Hopefully Aprife wouldn't be too cross with her, she idly thought.

Slinging her kanabo over her shoulders, Akko began her descent down the ladder. Her movements were deliberately slow; Muerte probably needed a minute to regain his composure. Catch his breath. Rethink his life choices. The good doctor was still dizzily sitting in the mud by the time she made it to the ground.

"Is that all? Aren't you going to get up?" Hands on hips, Akko peered at Muerte expectantly. "You have samples to collect, and things to do."

Quote:

HP: 20/20
Military Weapon +1
Adept Artifact: 2/2
(Defensive Style B: nullify the damage from the last hit)

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Quote:

Muerte finally(?) dealt 5 damage

"D-Don't taunt me." He hissed under his breath, cheeks and chin and face smeared with mud. His body ached in ways he never thought possible before this night. Truly this was a test of his limits, albeit an incredibly pathetic one. He shoved himself up, absolutely disdained to find his immaculate white lab coat splattered with muck. There was little blood however; that was mostly caught by his hemotyped cravat, thank god. It hid his shame. Sort of.

"Strike me down already why don't you! You—" he huffed dramatically, "You're toying with me." This coming from the one who was taking absolutely zilch serious earlier. His eye whrr'd quietly as it focused on Byakko's steadily approaching form, the scalpel gripped in his hand. "Make a fool out of me why don't you!" Great, now he was waxing his hubris to the whole entire swamp.

He took the scalpel and threw it with a surprising amount of dexterity. Would it kill Byakko? Of course not. Would it get his blood? Not enough. Would it probably piss her off even more? Probably.

But he was already going to die here so he didn't have much to lose.


Quote:
HP: 4/20
Novice Defense Style A (Robo Eye): 2/2

melona-pan

 

[melona-pan]

Quote:

Akko used her artifact, nullifying 5 damage.
Akko dealt 7 damage.

"I'm not trying to do anything of that nature." Byakko's mouth pressed firmly into a straight line, faintly taken aback by Muerte's accusations. Drawing her arms over her chest, she watched him inspect his lab coat with increasing weariness. Typical.

The scalpel coming whizzing through the air at such a close range was not something she predicted, however. With a small grunt she bobbed her head and torso to the left, watching the sliver of metal whizz past her head out of the corner of her eye. Well, never let it be said that Muerte Perist had no pluck whatsoever.

Turning back, she nodded in her own form of enthusiasm. "Yeah, like that." The scalpel lodged itself in the muck behind her, then promptly began to sink.

"If you want something badly enough, you need to work for it. Hard, now that you're one of us." She tapped the metal phoenix pinned to her chest. Exerting energy on a shitfit did not count. His ability was never in question; his methods however, were. Also it couldn't hurt for him to bulk up a bit.

"Look, why don't you just punch me? We'll call it a start." Byakko held her arms out to her sides, palms forward, welcoming his attack.

(She was almost positive Maneki could hit harder.)

Quote:

HP: 20/20
Military Weapon +1
Adept Artifact: 1/2
(Defensive Style B: nullify the damage from the last hit)

Melancholies

just do it

 

[Melancholies]

And there Muerte sat. In the mud. Defeated. It wasn't necessarily the pain of the fall or the actual injuries to his person (of which there were many), but his wounded pride, his fall from grace, the proverbial-icarus in him had flown too close to the sun and now here he lay. Except, an ocean would be better than this. An ocean would be a little more clean than a muck, parasite infested swampland.

Byakko was right about his pluck at least; the offer was there, and he was surprisingly quick to plant a sucker punch right into her gut.

Byakko was also right in that Maneki could probably hit harder.

Muerte being shaken and exhausted didn't help much, but the punch at least seemed to allow him to relieve some pent up... angry... whatever the ******** Muerte dealt with on a night to night basis. He was wheezing a little.

"As if I offer second best work on my own personal projects." The punch seemed to have taken the rest of his energy away, since he doubled over with his hands on his knees. "I settle for nothing but the best. Nothing. Those mongrels and their brawl over brains and their might makes right never understood that, never."

He sounded a little petulant.

melona-pan

 

[melona-pan]

Byakko stared down at Muerte's crumpled form for a drawn out moment, weighing his earnestly spoken words. After realizing he had no intentions of standing, she lowered her weapon and plodded through the mud toward him. Slowing as she approached, Akko dropped into a squatting position a few feet away.

"Well, you certainly can't just expect me to hand over my blood because you asked without explaination, can you? What would that say about me?" Leaning an elbow against her knee, Akko rested her chin in the palm of her hand and rose a brow in question.

"Each one of us makes important contributions in our own unique ways. Those 'mongrels'," here Akko unpropped her chin and made air quotes before returning it, "just do so in a more visible way." What was it Trolldad used to say in times like this? "We're all on the same book, it's just how we turn the pages." Well, that sounded a lot more profound in her head. A finger tapped at the hilt of her kanabo.

"At any rate, I can appreciate your... dedication to perfection." Is that what it was? "There is something to be said about a troll's willingness to put themselves through discomfort to see their goals through." Discomfort, being thrown off a balcony, same thing. There was a faint upturn at the corners of Akko's mouth, her hand now splayed against her cheek.

Without warning she straightened up, returning to her feet. "I think you've shown enough resolve for one night." She herself had gotten a little out of hand, after all. "We can head back to your hive, if you'd like. I assume you have all the necessary equipment there." Her tone was softly commanding and respectful, like you would address a child with a switchblade.

While she didn't expect him to take it, Byakko extended her hand out to Muerte.

Melancholiessss

a solid C+, but a pass